Oh, how forgiven are we in death,
A price to pay, in the loss of life.
Oh, how unloved when we reside
Yet remembered so little, as we die
Living on in memories, of a few
That had, in life.. subtly touched us
And then cease to be, immaterial
Like many a soul has, before us.
Tragedy is when.. misunderstood,
And never were they, ever heard.
Tragic lives, and disavowed care,
And never was a beautiful word,
Catered to them, in their winter fair.
Do them a favour, and heed 'em well
As they .. in flesh, still breathe in air.
Do not, please cry out in penitence,
And don their graves in flowers, rare.
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 2:19 PM UTC
Oh, how forgiven are we in death,
A price to pay, in the loss of life.
Oh, how unloved when we reside
Yet remembered so little, as we die
Living on in memories, of a few
That had, in life.. subtly touched us
And then cease to be, immaterial
Like many a soul has, before us.
Tragedy is when.. misunderstood,
And never were they, ever heard.
Tragic lives, and disavowed care,
And never was a beautiful word,
Catered to them, in their winter fair.
Do them a favour, and heed 'em well
As they .. in flesh, still breathe in air.
Do not, please cry out in penitence,
And don their graves in flowers, rare.
Love them when they are still alive. For death will surely liberate each one of us.
Request permission to use this poem